Most bridge books have nothing but bridge deals in them. By contrast, my last book, "The Lone Wolff," has almost no deals at all in it. It mainly discusses my life, and the politics of bridge at world level. As a former President of the World Bridge Federation and American Contract Bridge League, I came into contact with most of the superstars of the game, both as an administrator and as a member of the Dallas Aces, the team of American superstars gathered together by Ira Corn to break the Italian lock on the Bermuda Bowl.

This deal, however, is featured in the book. Against five diamonds I led the club queen. George Burns, who could have been a serious bridge player had not his illustrious show-business career as a comedian, actor and writer taken first call on his time, overtook with the ace, collecting South’s king.

Burns knew from the bidding that declarer held neither three hearts nor four spades, so found the only defense to beat declarer’s game — he returned a heart at trick two. Now declarer was unable to pitch losing spades on winning hearts, as Burns could ruff in.

If declarer had played a trump at trick three, Burns would have risen with his ace to return his second heart. But as I told Burns afterwards, I had played my part in the defense — by holding the diamond seven. If the diamond six and seven had been interchanged, the game could not have been defeated.

Party politics are set aside at the annual bridge match in London between the House of Lords and the House of Commons. Today's hand, from the 2002 contest, features John Marek, the strongest player of either house.

Pity Marek — he had intended conducting a constructive auction, and here he was, with neither he nor his partner, Lewis Mooney, having mentioned a genuine suit, required to make a decision at slam level. He bravely bid six hearts, against which West led a club. When dummy came down, South saw that he had guessed well, but even so, the slam was not laydown, since there were two possible spade losers.

Marek ruffed the club lead, drew trumps, then eliminated diamonds, trumping his fourth in dummy. He now knew 11 of West’s cards: six clubs (at least), four diamonds and one heart, leaving room for a maximum of two spades. Next came a low spade from dummy. Had East played low, Marek would have inserted the seven to endplay West. But East alertly contributed the eight.

Declarer carefully rejected the spade finesse, and instead rose with the ace. He then led a trump to dummy and played a second spade. When East followed low, declarer went in with his queen. West could win, but Marek didn’t mind that, as he knew West had no spade to return and would be endplayed into leading a club for a ruff and discard, allowing the slam to come home.

There are three basic ways of reaching a slam and I have seen them abbreviated by the acronym "BBC". Bashing is the unsophisticated approach; Blackwood and Cue-bids are the more subtle ones. Here South opted to follow the route that gave away the least information. Perhaps deservedly, he reached a poor contract, but he was able to set a trap, into which East fell.

Against six hearts, West chose a passive trump lead and South immediately realized that his best chance seemed to lie in finding East with the diamond ace in a relatively short holding. Then he could lead a diamond to his queen, followed by ducking the next diamond. If no ace appeared, a diamond ruff might next establish the diamond king for the 12th trick.

As you can see, this approach should not have worked today. However, after winning the trump lead in dummy, declarer duly led a diamond to his queen, which held the trick, but now instead of playing another diamond from hand, South crossed to dummy with a trump and advanced the diamond six. East, afraid that South might have started with the doubleton Q-J, went in with the ace, and now it was all over.

East should have reflected that if indeed South had this holding, playing the ace would simply establish dummy’s king for a valuable discard later. To rise with the ace would probably have been right only if the defenders had another quick trick to come — which was unlikely on the bidding and play so far.

One secret of defense is to play partner for the minimum that he needs to let you beat the contract. On a hand like today's the auction has told you before dummy comes down that you won't find many values in your partner's hand — both opponents appear to have opening bids and you have a 15-count.

Against four hearts you lead the diamond king, on which partner plays the nine — suggesting an original holding of a doubleton or singleton — and declarer follows with the five. Plan the defense.

Your best chance is to find your partner with the heart jack or queen. If he has a trump honor and uses it wisely, you can create a fourth defensive trick from nowhere. You cash the diamond queen at trick two, hoping that partner will show out, but both East and South follow suit. No matter; you next play the diamond three.

If the layout is as shown in the diagram and partner remembers to ruff in with the jack (he should, since you are known to have the diamond ace) there is no way for declarer to succeed. He must overruff, but now you will come to both a trump trick and a black king.

Note that if you don’t try to promote a trump but exit passively with a heart at trick three, declarer draws trump and runs the diamond jack, pitching a club, after which he has the rest with the help of the spade finesse.

Today's deal comes from the American trials to select a team for the 2011 Bermuda Bowl. Both tables declared four hearts from the South seat after a simple overcall in spades by West. In one room West cashed the two top spades, then shifted to a trump won in dummy. A successful finesse of the diamond queen was followed by a trump to dummy and then the club 10. West, Lew Stansby, won and could exit safely with a diamond. Now declarer could not avoid a second club loser.

The initial three tricks in the other room replicated those of the first. But here, Bobby Levin cashed a second heart in dummy, finding the 4-1 trump break. Abandoning trumps, Levin successfully ran the diamond 10 and followed with a diamond to his queen. A trump to dummy and another diamond brought forth the king and ace.

Before playing on, Levin analyzed the bidding. West had made a simple overcall. He was likely to hold six spades. If he had any fewer, then East would probably have supported his partner. That being so, with a six-card spade suit without the club king, West might well have made a weak jump overcall. These clues were enough for Levin to place West with the club king, so he got off play with the club queen. Well reasoned — West won and was endplayed into either returning a club or giving a ruff and discard.

P. Hal Sims was one of the giants, literally and metaphorically, of the early days of contract bridge. He stood 6 feet 4 inches and weighed over 300 pounds. He and his wife, Dorothy, the inventor of the psychic bid, were a formidable partnership, who took on the Culbertsons in one of the early challenge matches.

Sims was also one of the original members of the Four Horsemen, the first of the powerful squads at contract bridge in the early 1930s. Sims was credited with defending this hand.

Against South’s contract of three no-trump, Sims led a fourth-highest spade six. North took his king and returned the spade two. Sims won the spade ace and played back the spade 10 to declarer’s jack, establishing his spade eight as a winner.

South now played the heart ace and a low heart to the queen and king. Judging that the hearts were 2-4, declarer now played a diamond to the king, felling the queen, giving declarer a chance to guess West’s entire distribution.

Placing West as having begun with 5-2-1-5 shape, declarer exited with a spade to Sims’ eight. If Sims had cashed his remaining spade, East would eventually have been squeezed in the red suits. (This is an unfortunate maneuver known as a suicide squeeze or fratricide squeeze.) Instead Sims exited with the club queen, and declarer had no chance to exert any pressure on the defense for the ninth trick.

"Eight ever, nine never" reminds us that when we have eight trumps between our two hands, we should finesse for the queen, but when we have nine, we should play for the drop. This is reasonable advice, but there are sometimes good reasons for disobeying it.

At the table declarer in six spades took the straightforward line of cashing the spade ace and king, but when the queen did not drop and the diamond finesse was also wrong, he had to go down. Can you see how he might have done better? Declarer should see that if he can time the play accurately and lose a trick to East at the critical moment, he can insure his contract. With this aim in mind, declarer should start eliminating his hearts and club losers. He should win the heart king, cross to dummy with a club, cash the heart ace, ruff a heart, then go back to a club and ruff the fourth heart.

Now he can cash the club ace, discarding a diamond, and finally the time has come to play trump. Declarer should see that it doesn’t matter if he loses a trump trick to East’s doubleton queen, as East will be endplayed. So declarer should cash the spade king and play a spade to the 10. If it holds, then all his problems are over, but if it loses to East’s queen, then the defender will have to play a diamond into dummy’s tenace or give a ruff and discard.

North was quietly confident when he put down his dummy, but the contract of four spades turned out to be far harder than he might have expected.

West led the diamond 10 and declarer appreciated that so long as spades broke no worse than 3-1, his maximum losers would be one trump, one heart and one club — or possibly two trumps and one heart if diamonds were ruffed, while he attempted to shed a club on the diamond ace.

The lead was won in dummy, and declarer decided to take a safety play. Instead of cashing the spade ace or finessing in that suit, he led a low trump to the queen to protect against West’s having all four trumps. East could not go in with his king or he would lose his second trump trick, so he was forced to duck. South’s queen held the trick, but when West showed out on the spade ace, two trump losers seemed inevitable.

So to make his game, declarer needed to eliminate his club loser. Fortunately, the careful play in trumps had made that easy enough. South cashed the spade ace and now needed a second diamond to stand up, which it did. East ruffed dummy’s third diamond and returned a club, but to no avail. Declarer rose with the ace; then the diamond ace allowed dummy’s club queen to depart. East could ruff in again, but the contract was safe.

Behavior that would be frowned on away from the bridge table is positively encouraged over the green baize. While you should never mislead the opponents by your demeanor or tempo, you should try to make life as hard for your opponents as you can by the cards you play.

Today’s six-heart contract occurred at rubber bridge, North having been rather too pushy in the bidding. When you are in a bad contract, desperate measures are called for; and on this occasion declarer was on the ball. Having sized up the situation quickly, he ducked the opening diamond lead smoothly in both hands, and what is more, carefully contributed the diamond eight from hand, making East’s five look very big to West.

West could hardly be blamed for leading another diamond, thinking he had struck gold, but it was declarer who had come into riches. After the diamond continuation, South could ruff two diamonds in the dummy and throw his two spades away on dummy’s clubs: six hearts bid and made. This line had a far better chance than the legitimate line of playing for the club Q-J to ruff down, with hearts 2-2 and the spade ace onside.

I would be hesitant to cast the first stone at West, but I suppose he might have argued that if his partner had held the diamond ace, he could have overtaken at trick one and returned the suit, just to stop West from going wrong. But how many of us protect our partners in that way?